Pages

22 August 2014

Welcome to the Dark Side

Hi, friends. You may have noticed that I’ve
taken a bit of a hiatus from blogging. Though it’s not uncommon for me to
disappear from time to time, I’ve always managed to find my way back here, to
all of you. This time, however; I’m not sure if I’ll be back at all. It’s taken me
a long time to muster the courage to write this post and even longer to admit that
I even had a problem.

You see, for the better part of my life, I’ve been
battling depression. And for the last 6 months, it reared its ugly head.

It’s hard for me to talk about this because so
many people have so many preconceived notions about it. There’s this stigma surrounding
it, one where judgment reigns free. Suddenly, people are looking at you
differently, treating you differently, tip-toeing around you. Sometimes, often
times, it’s the people you love. So in an effort to not be judged, you pull
back, furthering the isolation that you are inevitably already feeling. You dig
down deeper into this gaping hole, going further and further and further until
you’re incapable of finding your way back out again. It’s a brutal and sick cycle.

I think one of the worst misconceptions I’ve
heard about depression is the notion that it’s just a consistently sad
state-of-mind. People think that, if you, the sufferer, could just think with a
little more rationale, you could see that things were fine. But the people that
think this way couldn’t be more wrong. It’s not that simple. Depression isn’t sadness and depression isn’t consistent. Depression is a very
mental, physical and emotional thing that swallows your entire being whole, starting
from the inside on out. It defies the bounds of logic by giving you a false
sense of hope. It eats away at the happy little pieces of you, a little bit at
a time. And it never makes sense. One minute you can feel totally normal and
the next, you start to break apart.

And, for me, that’s my biggest struggle. The
randomness of it. There will be moments, days, months where you feel fine; you
think, “I’ve finally got my shit
together.” You feel transparent and free. But then, for no apparent reason at
all, a soul-crushing well will open up, sucking you into this undertow of fear
and hopelessness and pain. It feels like you’ve been punched right in the gut;
so you grasp at strings, at anything to hold onto really, desperate for some
sense control. But after a while, you get tired of fighting and it begins to
feel like a kindness to give in. It gets to a point where you’d do anything, anything just to get rid of the pain.

But that’s not the worst part about
depression. It’s the shame. It’s the guilt you feel for feeling this way, the
utter hopelessness of not being able to get out of it. It’s the embarrassment you
get from not being strong enough to fix it—that impermeable despair and torment
that takes up residence in the hollowed out part of yourself. It’s the feeling
that there is something wrong with you and that you deserve it, somehow. That is the worst part.

Look, I don’t want to glamourize depression in
any way. Trust me when I say, there is nothing glamourous about it. I think if
Robin Williams’ recent and untimely death has taught us anything, it’s that
depression is deadly serious. And that’s part of why I made the decision to
share this personal bit of my life with all of you. Because this is a serious
and seriously misunderstood illness, one that deserves a bit of recognition
from and for the people who are afflicted by it.

To those of you who may be suffering from
depression, I want you to know that it’s okay to seek help. You are NOT
less than a person for feeling this way and you do NOT deserve this. Please,
please, please tell someone. Say something, anything, to anyone you trust. And
know that you are not alone. Conversely, if you know someone who is or may be
depressed, please, listen. Do not try to fix them. Do not judge. Just listen
and let them know they are loved. In situations like this, that is the greatest
kindness you can give.

As for myself, well, I’m a work in
progress. I won’t lie and say that things are completely fine because they're not. Healing doesn’t
happen overnight. Slowly I’m getting better, one day at a time. And maybe one day I
can claim a victory over my depression, at least, that’s the hope. Hope. Hope is a small spot of colour in
an otherwise vast sea of grey. Hope is what keeps me going. Hope is what keeps me alive.

And if you're interesting in learning more about the science behind depression, please check out AsapScience's video here. Understanding how something works is the key to curing it.

6 comments:

I love your blog but the most important things are you and your health. If you decide you want to come back I'll be here reading your posts. But if not, know that a stranger somewhere in Florida thinks you're great and supports you.

It is good to hear your voice again. You are a very strong person to share this with us, and I thank you. You are right, depression in our society is by some not taken serious enough at all. I will be keeping you in my thoughts and wish you the best. If you ever come back to blogging when you are ready or if you feel like it, I will be here.

Not sure if we're on the same page if you saw what I saw… Greetings, earthling. Because I was an actual NDE on the outskirts of the Great Beyond at 15 yet wasn’t allowed in, lemme share with you what I actually know Seventh-Heaven’s gonna be like for us if ya believe: meet this ultra-bombastic, ex-mortal-Upstairs for the most-extra-blatant-and-groovy, pleasure-beyond-measure, Ultra-Yummy-Reality-Addiction in the Great Beyond for a BIG-ol, kick-ass, robustNrisqué, party-hardy, eternal-warp-drive you DO NOT wanna miss the sink-your-teeth-in-the-smmmokin’-hot-deal. YES! For God, anything and everything and more! is possible!! Meet me Upstairs. Cya soon...

Archives

All original written material and images located on this blog, including its pages and posts, are copyrighted. Permission to use, reprint, or publish any material from this blog, whether in print or online, must be granted by the author in writing.